Cornered
by MasterThief94
Summary: Neal just wanted Peter and Elizabeth to be safe...Peter just wanted to catch the criminal...but when someone from Neal's past shows up, Peter and Neal must escape a con. And escape quickly. -No Slash, Peter/Neal Whumpage, Peter/Neal father-son affection-
1. Prisoner

**Okay, so for some reason my comp would let me log into my original account, XxFallenStorms, so I had to make a new one and transfer all my stuff over. Anyway, here is the story _Cornered_. Would love to hear from you, and enjoy!**

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_**Cornered**_

_**Chapter 1**_

**Peter-**

Peter Burke, FBI Agent, woke with a small groan, his entire body aching from the royal beating he had gotten, tied to a metal pole. He opened his eyes, squinting as he tried to spot Neal through the darkness. Alarm struck him when he couldn't see him, and as Peter tried to move, pain ripped down his side, causing his teeth to clench as he held back a howl of agony. His head twisted to the side, as he tried to figure out where Neal was, doing his best to ignore the burning sensation that ran throughout the FBI Agent's entire body.

After what seemed like hours, but what was really only a few minutes, Peter had twisted far enough around to where he could see behind him.

There! He could see Neal a few feet from him, also tied to a pole, though he was standing...barely standing.

"Neal?" Peter's voice was rough, but he didn't care. He didn't care that he was in pain right now. All he cared about was how his partner, his friend was doing. Neal didn't respond, and Peter's head jerked around at the sound of a door slamming. He squinted his eyes, trying to see who had walked in when something struck him across the side of the face. Hard.

Peter let out a gasp of surprise, his head jerking to the side from the impact. He heard a dark chuckle and could barely make out the shape of Marcus DeMyers. He glared at the other man until DeMyers started to move in Neal's direction.

"Don't touch him!" Peter's voice surprised even him, it came out in a snarl. He saw Marcus freeze and turn to glare at the FBI Agent, and Peter couldn't help but remember how he and Neal had gotten there in the first place.

_Peter Burke stared at his partner and friend, Neal Caffrey. They had been working throughout the night in the conference room, not talking much, as they tried to figure out where the The Starry Night, a painting by Vincent van Gogh, that had been in the Museum of Modern Art, had disappeared to, and who had taken it. There was a small thud, which caused Peter to look up, his eyes sparking with annoyance. This was the seventy-second time Neal had made a loud noise. Peter's gaze softened slightly as he saw Neal of the ground, his eyes closed and a soft snore coming from the young man's mouth. He couldn't help but chuckle at the innocent look Neal always seemed to have on his face when he was sleeping._

_Shaking his head slightly, Peter got to his feet, jacket in hand, and walked over to his partner, lightly placing the jacket on him, covering the upper part of Neal's body like a blanket. Neal stirred faintly, but didn't wake up. Peter watched Neal for few seconds before he got to his feet, stretching as he did so. A few moments later, he was back in the chair he had been sitting in. Leaning back in it, Peter placed his feet on the edge of the conference table and closed his eyes. Within seconds he was fast asleep._

_(A Few Hours Later...)_

_Peter jerked awake, looking around in confusion when he saw he was not in his home, in his bed. His gaze came to a rest on Neal, who was leaning against the wall, eyes closed. Oh, right, he was in the office. He blinked and looked at the conference table, surprised to see a pile of his clothes neatly stacked, and his gaze slid back to Neal. He blinked in surprise as he saw the young man's eyes were open, and that Neal was watching him. He opened his mouth, sitting up to find his jacket slide off him, and he gave Neal a quizzical look. He saw humor in his friend's blue gaze as the ex-con stood, smoothing out his shirt before he flashed a smile at Peter._

_"Morning Peter." Neal said, running a hand through his hand._

_"Morning Neal." Peter replied, then paused before continuing. "Sleep good?"_

_"Fine, thank you. And yourself?"_

_"Fine. Where did my clothes come from?" Peter asked, watching Neal closely, seeing that he was in a different change of clothes. Neal shifted to the side just barely, but Peter had caught the movement, and he guessed what had happened, but he waited for Neal to explain._

_"I might have borrowed your car."_

_"You stole it." Peter's voice was pulled a look that made his seem all shame-faced, but as Peter watched, Neal shrugged._

_"Borrowed." Neal corrected, smiling. "Anyway, I got those for you, and came back. So, it doesn't matter."_

_Peter rolled his eyes as he got to his feet, stretching, and grabbed the clothes before he walked out, going to go change into the fresh clothes. He appreciated Neal's effort, but the kid could be such an idiot sometimes..._

Peter's thoughts were interrupted when Marcus DeMyers started laughing.

"As if you can stop me, Agent Peter Burke!" He said, laughing darkly as he began to move towards Neal again. Peter could do nothing more than watch in total horror as Marcus slapped Neal awake. The FBI Agent watched as Neal's blue eyes flew open, wide with shock. He saw something silver glint swiftly, a shocking light in the darkness of the room, and then he heard Neal let out a cry of pain and saw the young man hit the floor. Even with the dim light of the room, Peter could still see a dark stain spreading on Neal's shirt at the ex-con's shoulder.

"Neal!"

**Neal-**

Neal Caffrey woke to the sharp flash of pain going across his face. His blue eyes flew open, wide from the shock of the matter of being struck. He swore he saw Peter, but he didn't really have time to think about it because a sharp flash of pain crashed over him as something sharp stabbed into his shoulder.

As much as he wanted too, Neal couldn't hold back the yell of pain that escaped his lips and he fell to the ground, dimly aware that he was tied to a pole.

"Neal!" He heard someone shout. No. Not someone. Peter. His friend.

That's when everything came flooding back to him. What had happened so they had ended up in this situation in the first place.

_Neal Caffrey watched Peter leave, shaking his head slightly. Peter Burke was a good friend, and a good partner, but he could be such a mom at times! Neal knew that he meant well though, and Neal couldn't hold a grudge against the man who was his best friend for too long. With a small grin, Neal picked up a stack of files that he and Peter had been going through until they had both crashed, and walked out of the conference room and over to his desk before he set them down. He stared at the top of for a long moment before he picked it up and opened it, turning around so he could lean against the edge of the desk._

_The ex-con's blue gaze traveled over the paper he was looking at, and his eyes widened in surprise. The file on Marcus DeMyers had everything that he and Peter were looking for. It had the same calling card, a single bullet laying in a splash of red. What looked like blood. Neal blinked, remembering seeing the painting missing, and in its place, a card that had looked as if a bullet where on the white wall, blood splashed across it. That hadn't been the case. It had been just a card...a simple card, but it was one that sent shudders down the young man's spine._

_The ex-con blinked, as he scanned the page that contained the information of Marcus DeMyers. The guy had been convicted of rape and murder of a teenage girl, the murders of 18 other people, stolen objects, like paintings and such, and much, much more. And he had escaped the prison he had been sent to. He had done so many horrible things, he had been sentenced to life in prison, and he had escaped. Wonderful._

_Neal's head snapped up as he heard a faint scream, coming from downstairs. He dropped the folder and rushed out of the office, out to where the elevators were. He gave them a quick glare, knowing that they would take far too long, before he darted to the stairs and bolted down them._

_He slammed into the lowest floor door and rushed into a startling scene. Elizabeth Burke, Peter's wife, was standing there, her eyes wide with fear as she stared at a man across from her. Peter was just in front of his wife, his arms spread out as if he could shield her from harm. Directly in front of Peter, stood a man, about 5' 6" tall, dark brown hair and from what Neal could see, lightly tanned skin. Neal knew who it was, what color the eyes would be, what he had done in the past, everything. He had just read the file on him._

_Marcus DeMyers. And he was speaking, not noticing Caffrey was behind him, though Peter did. He gave the subtlest of a subtle shakes of his head, telling Neal 'No.'. Neal, being Neal, didn't listen. Instead he began to slowly creep forward, keeping the usual cat-like quietness to his movements. Something must have given him away however, probably the loud bang, from the door leading to the stairs, closing, because Marcus whipped his head around, fixing Caffrey with a dark look._

_"One more move forward and you can kiss your partner and his wife goodbye." Marcus growled. Neal put his hands up in surrender._

_"You don't want to do that." Neal said, hiding the terror he felt towards Peter and Elizabeth from Marcus._

_"Oh, don't I?" Came the cruel reply._

_"No, you don't. Killing an FBI Agent and his wife is a huge deal, you'll be followed everywhere you go." Neal said. Not that you won't be anyway... He thought to himself, cautiously watching Marcus. Neal paused, seeing only one way to get out of this mess with Peter and Elizabeth being safe. "You'll need a hostage to get out of this building alive..."_

_"Take me instead." Neal's voice was quiet as he spoke, and he saw surprise flicker in Marcus' eyes. Then Marcus' eyes hardened and he flashed a dark smile._

_"How about I take both of you instead?"_

_Neal watched as Marcus turned, striking Peter across the head. His friend crashed to the ground while another man, who had appeared out of nowhere, grappled with Elizabeth. Neal started forward instantly, seeing Peter stir slightly and start to roll to his feet, when pain erupted on the back of his head and everything went dark._

"Peter..." He gasped out, blue eyes searching for where he had saw his friend. There he was! A vicious kick to Neal's side shut the ex-con up though. Something that sounded like a growl could be heard coming from Peter's direction.

_Shut up Peter...don't make this any worse for yourself! _Neal thought desperately to himself as Marcus started towards Peter.

"Leave Peter alone!" He said, though his voice was almost a whisper. Neal watched Marcus turn and give Neal the oddest look ever. Something like a cross between humor and shock, before the con man turned and walked passed Peter, muttering to himself.

"I'll be back to..." That was all Neal and Peter heard before the door Marcus DeMyers had walked through, slammed shut, cutting off the con man's voice.

_He'll be back to what?_


	2. Ricin

_**Chapter 2**_

**Neal-**

Neal stared in Peter's direction, his blue eyes narrowed as he tried to see how bad his friend was hurt. He couldn't really tell from the lighting, but he had a feeling that his partner had gotten beaten pretty bad.

"Peter..." Neal groaned, struggling to sit up, and then finally managing it, though he was wincing from the pain it caused.

"Neal? Neal, are you ok?" Peter sounded worried, which caused a faint touch of amusement running through Neal. Peter got the living crap beaten out of him, and he was worried about Neal. Why Neal found that funny, he had no idea, he just..did.

"I'm fine Peter. Question is, are you ok?"

"Neal, you were just stabbed, and you ask me if I'm ok...there is something wrong with you."

"Thought that was already established. You never answered my question."

"I'm fine." Peter said after a long moments pause, but it was obvious that his words were a lie. Or...it was to Neal.

"Peter. Don't lie. You suck at lying. I can tell you are lying."

"Because you lie for a living?"

There was a stony silence for a few minutes before Neal finally spoke. "Because I know you."

Neal watched Peter shift slightly, as if uncomfortable, and he had the feeling that Peter was going to say something, but at that instant, the door flew open again. Marcus had returned. Neal glared at the con man as he walked over, but paled when he saw what was in the con man's hand.

A glass syringe. With...whatever the heck that odd yellow liquid was in it, filled it halfway.

_Crap. _He thought as Marcus bent down next to Neal. Neal refused to let any emotions show on his face as he glared at Marcus. Neal couldn't help but flinch as DeMyers brought the syringe level with the ex-con's arm, though he tried to hide the fact that he flinched.

Marcus had noticed though, and the con let out a laugh.

"Scared, Caffrey? Well, I don't know why...I mean, it's just a syringe filled with ricin, the third most deadliest poison there is." DeMyers said, grinning the entire time. "However, this, is not for you. I wanted to see your reaction seeing it, and I was amused, but this is for your friend."

Neal's blue eyes went wide in shock, and terror for Peter. "No!" He burst out, straining towards Marcus as the con got up. "No!" He repeated, loud despite the fact was in pain. He didn't care. He didn't want Peter hurt. "Don't give it to him! I'll...I'll take it. I'll take it for him!"

Peter struggled against his bonds as he heard Neal.

"Shut up Neal!" The FBI Agent snapped, though Neal didn't care. He kept his attention fixed on Marcus, who threw his head back and laughed.

"No, no, no Caffrey. This isn't for you. This is for your partner." Marcus insisted. Neal's eyes widened as Marcus started towards Peter.

_NO! _He screamed in his head, thrashing against his own bonds. He felt dim surprise as he got his legs free, a moment later, his hands came free too, and he swung one leg around, pressing himself flat against the ground so he could stretch as far as possible, and managed to hook his leg around DeMyers' leg, causing the con to trip.

The syringe flew from Marcus' hand and shattered against the wall.

Marcus let out an inhuman sounding snarl as he hit the floor, but the con didn't stay down for long. Within moments, he was back on his feet, and the next thing Neal knew, he was being yanked up from the floor and slammed against another wall.

He let out a sharp gasp of pain as his head collided with the wall, but that didn't last for long because then pain blossomed in his ribs as he heard a sharp _crack! _He dimly heard Peter saying something to Marcus in what sounded like a very very angry voice, because his vision went black for a few seconds. And then he could hear and see again...correctly.

"Well, Caffrey, you broke Peter's dose, and since you want it so badly, I'm going to give you your wish." DeMyers' voice was a snarl. Neal cringed as Marcus pulled out yet another syringe, though this was one was filled entirely.

And then Neal did something he knew he shouldn't have.

He gave a small laugh. "Not like you wouldn't have given it to me anyway. Don't try to make me think you wouldn't have, I'm not the idiot here, you are."

He knew he had just messed up any chances he had of not getting injected, of changing the con's mind, and hearing Peter groan, Neal knew that Peter realized that too.

And then the needle from the syringe was plunged into his arm, and Neal was forced to hold back a whimper because of the pain it caused. He could only watch dully as the yellow liquid-like stuff was injected to him and Marcus step back with a dark smile on his face.

For a moment...nothing happened, but within minutes, Neal had slumped to the ground with a groan. He felt horrible, like he was going to be sick.

Marcus just laughed and walked away, taunting Peter by making sure he took his time to walk slowly passed the furious FBI Agent, who was struggling to break free of his bonds to attack Marcus. But Peter didn't get free, couldn't get free, and Marcus snickered before he left.

"Neal! You idiot! What the hell were you thinking?" Peter yelled, once Marcus was gone. Silence greeted him. "Neal? Neal? Neal answer me!"

But there was no answer. Neal was unconscious.

**Peter-**

Peter twisted around to try to find where Neal was. How the ex-con had gotten out of his bonds, Peter had no idea. He was tied tight, and he had the feeling that Neal had been tied tight as well, but then again, Neal was excellent at escaping things.

Scanning the shadows, Peter saw Neal laying there, looking dead as he lay on the floor, face down.

"Neal!" He screamed, wishing he could get free so he could help his partner. With a disgusted sigh, Peter wrenched at his bonds, his eyes widening as he felt them loosen a bit. Again he pulled, and again, and again, and after a few more pulls, Peter could get his hands free.

Quick as a flash, he undid the rest of his bindings, wincing as he felt the blood begin to circulate in his wrists and ankles again, but that didn't matter, because then Peter was rushing to his fallen comrade.

"Neal? Come on, Neal, answer me." Peter said, fear in his voice as he flipped his partner over. He cursed as he felt for Neal's pulse, thinking that none was there for a moment.

And then Peter felt it. The ex-con's pulse. It was faint, weak, and as Peter held his hand in the spot where he had managed to find the pulse, it faltered.

"Don't you dare think about dying on me Neal!" Peter growled, though he didn't see what he could do to help his friend.

_I'll do whatever it takes to keep you alive Neal. I swear to God, we'll will make it through this...together._

Peter didn't know how long he sat there, making sure Neal stayed alive, by giving him CPR when Neal's pulse stopped. He didn't know how many times he had felt terror course through him when such things happened. He didn't know why Marcus hadn't come back yet. He didn't know much of anything concerning that.

He did know that he had to do what he could to keep Neal alive though, and he did. He did know the terror, and then relief he felt when the door to the chamber in which he and Neal were in, flew open to reveal the FBI and paramedics. He knew that Neal was taken to the hospital, that Neal had been, and still was almost dead.

And he knew that he wished Neal had never tried to talk Marcus out of giving him the ricin dosage. That he hadn't offered to take Peter's place, and that he had tripped Marcus when Marcus said 'no'. That he hadn't pissed Marcus off.

Peter just wished that Neal hadn't been hurt.


	3. Surprised

_**Chapter 3**_

**Peter-**

Peter watched with a worried expression as the paramedics loaded Neal into an ambulance. The ex-con's face had been tight with pain and he had been pretty pale, so the paramedics had washed the area where Neal had been injected with the deadly poison.

And the FBI hadn't managed to catch DeMyers or anyone from DeMyers' group.

"Can I go with you?" Peter asked one of the paramedics, but the guy shook his head. "But he's my partner."

"No, we need our room to work. You'll just get in the way." The paramedic said firmly, while the other one went up from to drive. Peter nodded slowly. What the paramedic said was probably true...he would get in the way, which would not help Neal at all.

"Where are you taking him?" Peter demanded. The paramedic turned an annoyed glare on the FBI Agent, but Peter didn't care. Something...something didn't seem right. "Where are you taking him?" He asked again.

And then it hit him. This guy _was not _a paramedic. The other paramedic was not an actual paramedic. They weren't because Peter had seen them before. With DeMyers.

The criminal must have seen outrage and recognition in Peter's gaze, because he whirled double tapped the ambulance door's hard, after slamming it shut. The ambulance took off as Peter lunged forward, grabbing the criminal by the arms.

"DIANA! JONES!" Peter yelled, as the criminal tried to escape. Peter's team members rushed over, shocked to see Peter putting on cuffs on a paramedic.

"Boss?" Diana asked. Peter shoved the paramedic towards them.

"Lock him up. He, and the other paramedic, aren't actually paramedics. They work for DeMyers." Diana's eyes widened slightly, before narrowing into a dark glare.

"Where's Neal?"

"Gone. The other one got away with Caffrey." Peter said darkly. He was furious, at both DeMyers and himself.

_Why didn't you see it before?_ A voice in his head snarled at him. _Neal's poisoned and now kidnapped, and you just stood by doing nothing! Now Neal could die!_

Peter recoiled at the thought. _No! I won't let that happen! _He snapped back at the voice, watching as Jones and Diana led the criminal away. Peter pulled out his phone and dialed a number.

_"US Marshals. How may I assist you Agent Burke?"_ A voice spoke to him. Peter blinked. How did the Marshals know it was him? Must have Caller I.D. or something... He decided.

"I need a location on Neal Caffrey's tracker."

_"One moment."_ There was a pause. _"Sir, Mr. Caffrey's tracker just went offline. Do you require assistance?"_

Peter glared at the ground. "No." And with that, Peter hung up and gripped the phone very tightly. So tight that his knuckles turned white.

_I'll find you Neal. I will. _Peter vowed, pausing before adding. _And when I do, DeMyers, and everyone else who has helped him, is screwed._

**Neal-**

Neal let out a yelp as he crashed to the floor, and the ex-con's eyes flew open.

"About time!" He heard a voice snarl, and he glanced around, trying to make sense of the confusing scene. He had been thrown out of an ambulance and to the ground...by a guy who looked furious. Glancing around, Neal saw at least three more pairs of feet, but he didn't want to look up. He felt sicker than a dog, and there was a faint sheet of sweat on his forehead.

_Where am I? Where is Peter? _He thought with a groan. The last thing he remembered was hitting the ground after Marcus had injected him with the ricin.

"Where's Jeff?" Neal heard a voice growl, apparently talking to the guy that had thrown him out of the ambulance.

"They got him. Burke realized what was going on at the last minute and got him." Neal stiffened at the mention of Peter, but realized that Peter was safe, and relaxed until he felt pain blossom in his ribs as he was kicked angrily by the guy who had asked where Jeff was.

"Well, we got Caffrey. That's what the boss wanted." The voice growled, as Neal struggled back up. A hand grabbed his hair roughly and yanked him upwards, causing Neal to let out a whimper of pain.

_No. Don't give them the satisfaction._ The ex-con thought to himself, bracing himself for the beating he felt was sure to come.

And what a beating it was!

Neal inhaled sharply from pain he felt when a fist struck him in the gut, and then they were all at him. Hits to his side, his chest, his stomach, hits everywhere were delivered to him. And Neal took it all in silence, though he found that tough, because he knew at least three more ribs broke during the process.

Unfortunately, his silence seemed to irritate one guy greatly, because that guy jerked Neal to his feet, for the ex-con had crashed to the ground during the process of beating.

_No, no, no! _Neal thought to himself, staring at the guy with a pleading expression. _Please, no!_

The guy just laughed at Neal's expression and twisted Neal's wrist one way before bringing his other hand crashing down on the ex-con's wrist. There was a sickening _snap_, and Neal couldn't hold back the scream of agony that tore from his lips. One scream after another, and for a few minutes, that was all that could be heard. Neal Caffrey screaming from pain, but finally, the screams died into whimpers. The jerk who had broken Neal's wrist laughed harder, letting go of Neal as the ex-con hit the ground.

"Oh come on Max, did you have to do that?" One of the other guys protested.

"Would you rather it be you?" Max snapped back. "Besides, Caffrey deserved it. He's a traitor to cons. All of them. Anyone who would voluntarily offer to help catch their own is a traitor. And that's just what Caffrey did." Max leaned down to glare at Neal, who stared back with a pained look on his face as he clutched his broken wrist to his chest. "Isn't it Caffrey?"

"Screw you." Neal snarled, and although he meant for his voice to sound loud and dangerous, all that came out was a weak whisper. Max laughed, before striking Neal in the face with a clenched fist, causing the ex-con's eyes to roll up into the back of his head, and hit the ground again.

This time, unconscious.

"Alright. Now let's take him back to the boss." Max said, nodding to himself as another guy picked Neal up by the armpits and began dragging him into a nearby building.

"You." Max said, turning on the guy who had brought Neal there. "Get rid of the ambulance." Max's voice was dark, deadly, and so it was only natural seeming when the other guy nodded and leaped into the vehicle and raced away.

Max chuckled, and turned to follow all the other men who had gone in after Neal had been dragged in.

"Let the games begin." He said, laughing as he did so, before he disappeared into the building.


	4. Annoyed and Angered

_**Chapter 4**_

**Neal-**

Neal Caffrey woke when a sharp sting was delivered to his face. The ex-con let out a small groan, trying to force his eyes open as he shook his head weakly. Again, he felt the sharp stinging sensation of being slapped, and this time, his eyes flew open.

He let out another groan as he was jerked to his feet, as he had been sitting, well, more like leaning, on a wall. The ground spun, and Neal had to choke back the wave of nausea that hit him.

"Hello again Caffrey." A voice said, and Neal groggily looked towards the speaker, his mind fuzzy on how he had gotten in such a place as the one he was in, and why he hurt so much. The speaker's face was cast in shadow, as the room he was in had very bad lighting to it.

As his vision quit spinning, Neal could finally focus enough to take note of his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit room, lit by only a single light bulb that dangled on the edge of a chain, hanging from the center of the ceiling.

"Who? Where...?" Neal's voice was rough, as though he hadn't used it in days.

The voice chuckled, and the speaker moved so their face could be seen in the bad lighting.

Marcus DeMyers.

And then everything came flooding back to Neal, and upon remembering the agony he had felt when his wrist had broken, Neal flinched. He quickly tried to cover up the fact, but it was too late, as DeMyers had been watching Neal Caffrey closely. The con let out an amused laugh.

"Good, it's coming back to you. Less explaining for me to do." He said with a snicker.

Neal glared. "Peter will find you." He replied, his voice sounding oddly menacing.

"Good. I'm counting on him being around to watch you draw your last breath." DeMyers said, grinning wolfishly. Neal paled slightly, but kept his face emotionless as he was dragged over to where a metal pole stood. No matter how much the FBI Consultant struggled, he could not escape the merciless grip of his captors, and within moments, Neal's arms were forced behind him and both hands were cuffed behind the pole.

Neal kept his gaze locked on DeMyers throughout the entire procedure, though he winced as the two men handling him purposefully tightened the cuffs to where they were squeezing tight on both wrists, broken and not broken.

"Comfortable Caffrey?" DeMyers asked, grinning darkly. Neal replied with silence. Marcus' amused gaze went from amused to annoyed very swiftly when the silence stretched on, and the con went over to where Neal stood, putting his face in Neal's. "I asked you a question." He growled.

Neal smirked slightly. "I'd be more comfortable if you got a breath mint." He replied, grinning slightly, knowing that he stood a good chance of getting hit because of such comments.

Neal's guess was right, as Marcus' gaze narrowed, and the con slammed his fist into Neal's gut. Neal doubled over as far as he could go with the metal pole being in the way, and before the pain from his wrist became far too agonizing.

"I don't appreciate such rudeness." Marcus' voice was cold as the con glared at Neal with contempt in his gaze. Neal straightened after a a bout of coughing, and gave Marcus a blank look.

"Doesn't that just suck, because I don't appreciate getting kidnapped and beaten up." Neal replied.

Marcus chuckled. "And to think, that beating should have taught you some manners. I guess that's too complicated for you, though in my opinion, you weren't injured enough." DeMyers paused before continuing. "Let's see how you handle this."

Neal's eyes widened as Marcus turned around, grabbed something, turned back around and was holding a 9mm gun at Neal's chest. There was a pause, where Marcus DeMyers grinned evilly at Neal, and then the report of a gun went off.

White hot agony seared throughout Neal as the ex-con fell to the ground, his face white as a sheet as his shirt began to stain with a dark red color. Neal looked upwards to see Marcus standing over Neal, disgust in the con's gaze.

"You are so pathetic. I should kill you right now...but I have another thing or two planned for you before you die." Marcus sneered, just as darkness swept over Neal and the ex-con fell unconscious.

**Peter-**

"Agent Burke! Agent Burke!" The yell filled the FBI office, and Peter instantly leaped to his feet from where he had been sitting in his chair. Some new agent ran into Peter's office, looking breathless as he clutched a package. "Agent Burke, this just came. It's addressed to you." The new kid said, handing Peter the package.

Peter nodded thankfully to the kid, who returned the nod before leaving. Peter watched the kid go for half a second before his gaze flew to the package wrapped in brown paper, and Peter ripped the paper off as Diana, Jones, and Hughes entered his office.

Peter pulled out a CD, and a note addressed to him. He looked over the note first, his blood going cold at the words.

_Figured you'd like to see how your pet con is doing. Hope you enjoy watching this as much as I did. ~Marcus DeMyers_

Peter glared at the note for a moment longer before he went to the conference room, Jones and the other two following him. They watched closely as Peter put the CD in a computer, and pushed the 'play' button.

The image of a battered Neal Caffrey being thrown out of an ambulance came on the screen, and Peter and the others watched in total shock and horror as Neal was beaten. Peter flinched as the ear-splitting _crack_ of Neal's wrist being broken, right after the ex-con had pled for the guy who had broken his wrist, not to break it.

The feed was cut short, to be replaced by another scene. Neal was slapped awake, and Peter noticed that his partner looked confused...until he saw DeMyers. Peter saw Neal say something, as the FBI Agent had gone momentarily deaf because he was so angry with DeMyers, and he saw Marcus react by walking over to Neal, and punching him.

Peter stiffened. Marcus DeMyers had _hit_ Neal Caffrey? As annoying as the ex-con could be, that was...that was unacceptable! If _anyone_ was allowed to hit Neal, it would be Peter, not some con who thought he was better than everyone!

And then the unthinkable happened. Marcus shot Neal. In the chest. And Peter could do nothing but watch, as he was watching from a video, as Neal hit the ground, red spreading across the young man's chest at an alarming rate.

_He...I...Marcus...Neal... _Peter was so furious that he couldn't even finish his own thoughts right then, and as the camera image changed yet again, Peter glared.

_The screen was pointing at the sitting form of Marcus DeMyers, who held the very gun that had been used on Neal, in his lap. Marcus smiled at the camera, and waved the gun._

_"I hope you are enjoying yourself Agent Burke. I do trust you will find Caffrey, as I'm sure he wants you too. You see, he and I go a little ways back, as I was going after a painting that he was going after. We teamed up, and he double-crossed me. Angry, I went after him, only to find that you got to him first, and not once, but twice! And then I heard how Caffrey was an FBI Consultant, and it all went from there." Marcus paused, and then continued._

_"Obviously, Caffrey cares about you, which is why I'm going to give you the chance to find him, else he'd be dead right now. Well, no, I won't lie to you. That's not the only reason I've kept him alive. You see, he's grown close to you, as you have to him, so I would love to have you around when Neal draws his last breath."_

Again, Marcus paused, and then continued.

_"You have 24 hours to find Caffrey, after that, I wouldn't be expecting to see Caffrey alive, if I were you...Have a good day." Marcus laughed._

The video feed cut off to a snowy screen, as Peter stood there, rigid.

_24 hours...24 hours...24 hours...Wouldn't be expecting to see Caffrey alive...24 hours... _The words rolled around in Peter's head, until he blinked several times, aware that Hughes was issuing out orders to find Neal.

_You. Are. Dead. DeMyers. I. Will. Find. Neal_. Peter thought, giving the snowy screen the darkest of all dark looks before he stormed out of the conference room, his thoughts a blur.

_I will find you Neal...mark my words, I will find you!_


	5. Sickened

**Right, well, this is Chapter 5 for Cornered! :D Hope it works for you all, as I couldn't really think of what to put for this one. Was having writer's block. -.- Anyway, would love to hear your opinions, and hope you all enjoy!**

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_**Chapter 5**_

**Peter-**

Peter Burke glared at the wall. He had returned to the conference room a few minutes after storming out, because he needed to find Neal. Peter didn't think he would forgive himself he if didn't find Neal in time.

And now, it seemed like it seemed like no matter how many times they went over the video, they just couldn't seem to be able to figure out where DeMyers was holding Neal. It was...irritating. Highly so. Peter's brown gaze flickered back to the tape in time to see Neal get shot. He flinched as he continued to stare at the computer screen, watching Neal fall to the floor and his shirt start to turn red with his blood.

Peter's gaze went back to the wall as he tried to force away the sickened feelings bubbling in his chest. Poisoned, kidnapped, and now shot... Neal just couldn't seem to get a break, or so it seemed to Peter, and from what the Special Agent had seen so far, Neal wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Peter gave a frown, his gaze flickering back to the screen.

_Neal...where are you?_ He asked mentally, and as if in answer, the screen froze on the black and white snow of the video being cut off. Peter felt like slamming his head into his desk, but then stared at the picture.

"Hey Jones, doesn't snow like this usually have encrypted messages in them?" Peter asked, eyes narrowed in thought. Jones looked up at him.

"Yeah, why- _oh_. I'll get that message for you." He said, before typing away on the computer. Peter watched him, and soon enough, a link had popped up. A link hidden inside a video... Jones followed the link and they watched as another window popped up. Peter stared at the live picture of Neal, slowly regaining consciousness.

"Can you trace this?" Peter asked. Jones nodded.

"As long as it stays online, I should be able to." Came the prompt reply. Peter nodded.

"Let's hope it stays online then." He said quietly, watching his friend as he waited for the trace to finish. _Let's hope it stays online..._

**Neal-**

Neal Caffrey slowly opened his eyes to a world mostly cast in shadow. The lighting here was terrible, but Neal didn't care. He was too busy trying to not concentrate on the waves of nausea and pain crashing over him. Blue eyes began to close, only to snap open as Neal jerked himself to wakefulness. He didn't have time to fall asleep, he needed to find a way to get out.

But nausea was rolling over him, and Neal closed his eyes again, hoping that he wasn't going to be sick.

"Well look who's awake!" Marcus said, almost in a delighted manner. Neal groaned, and shook his head. He hadn't really noticed DeMyers standing in the corner of the room, but then again, he hadn't really noticed much of anything.

"Why?" Neal asked after a moment, opening his eyes to see the blurred form of Marcus kneeling next to him. "W-why?" He whispered weakly. His condition was worsening at an incredibly alarming rate. Probably had something to do with all the blood on the floor. His blood.

"Why? WHY?" Marcus sounded outraged as he repeated Neal. Neal didn't even flinch as he saw Marcus' blurred form lunge at him, and then felt a sharp stab of pain hit him in the chest. Neal let out a small whimper, but gave Marcus an unfocused look.

"Why?" He asked again.

"YOU DOUBLE-CROSSED ME! THAT'S WHY! AND THEN YOU DOUBLE-CROSSED EVERYONE!" DeMyers screamed at him, striking Neal in the chest again before he gave him a blow to the face. Neal's head just rolled with the impact before he fixed his gaze on the floor. He blinked slowly, before lifting his head to stare at DeMyers. He could barely make out the look of rage on the man's face, but he was too far gone to really care.

Nausea continued to crash into Neal, and finally, Neal couldn't hold back from emptying what little was in his stomach...mainly water though. He started a coughing fit right after, but shifted enough away from the pool of sick to where he wouldn't have to sit or look at it. Neal was having difficulty breathing by the time he had finished coughing, but once he was done, he raised his head to look at DeMyers.

The felon had moved away from Neal, like he was some disease that was death if caught. Neal glared feebly at him, and DeMyers eyes narrowed. His tormentor snapped his fingers and pulled a tragic face.

"I almost forgot!" He said, reaching into his pocket to pull out yet another syringe. Neal just gave him a blank stare, like he didn't care what happened to him now. DeMyers just smiled and walked over to Neal, though his nose crinkled up as he looked at the pool of sickness. "That's gross." He remarked. Neal gave a weak smile.

"Oh yay, I grossed you out." He murmured. DeMyers just grinned as he crouched down next to Neal, and grabbed one of Neal's arms. Neal gave what sounded like a half-strangled yelp, as the arm was the one with the broken wrist.

"Awwww...did I hurt the poor baby?" He said in a mock sing-song voice. Neal just struggled to get away from Marcus, though the attempts were feeble, and after a few seconds, the ex-con just gave up. DeMyers inserted the needle into Neal's arm and was about to inject the cruel yellow-green liquid inside when a voice spoke.

"You touch him again, I will kill you." Peter's voice was like ice. "You're lucky I haven't yet. Lucky I listen to the advice I give out. You're under arrest DeMyers."

Neal's blue gaze went searching for his partner, and when he found him standing there in the doorway, Neal offered him a faint smile. Meanwhile, DeMyers had become as rigid as a piece of wood before he turned to look Peter.

"Agent Burke! I'd hoped you'd figure out the encoded link." DeMyers voice was soft, and dark. "But I'm not going with you to see a jail cell."

"You have no choice."

"I think I do." Marcus said, laughing as he took the syringe and shoved the liquid into Neal's bloodstream within a matter of seconds, before he leaped to his feet. Peter fired, hitting Marcus in the shoulder. Pain flashed across the man's features, but he kept going, escaping out a back door that neither Neal or Peter had noticed before. Peter pulled out his walkie-talkie radio and notified Jones and Diana that DeMyers was escaping before he rushed over to Neal.

The con had slumped against the cool metal pole he had been cuffed to, his blue eyes barely open.

"Knew...you'd find...me Peter..." He mumbled, sighing softly. Peter uncuffed his partner rapidly, before one hand went to Neal's wrist to see how the young man's pulse was. Peter's eyes widened, as Neal's skin was cool to touch, but the con's face was flushed and a thin layer of sweat was on the young man's brow. Peter put one hand on Neal's forehead, and shook his head in dismay at how hot the skin was.

Neal gave Peter a small smile, before he slumped to the side entirely, Peter catching his friend just before Neal's head hit the floor. Peter swore quietly, and radioed to Jones that he needed paramedics over there, and quickly.

Peter looked at his partner, and shook his head, pulling off his jacket to put under his friend's head until the paramedics arrived. Who were taking _forever_! But then Jones rushed in, and Peter's head snapped up, hand on his gun just in case, but as soon as he saw there wasn't any danger, he relaxed slightly.

"Did we get DeMyers?" Peter asked. Jones shook his head.

"No, DeMyers knows all the back ways out of here. We just barely lost him." He said regretfully, his gaze fixed on Neal.

A few more minutes passed, and Peter glared at the doorway entrance he had come through. "How long does it take for the paramedics to get here?" He asked angrily. Jones gave him an odd look.

"What are you talking about? There were no paramedics here when I came back to find you."

Peter stared at him. "I radioed you that we needed the paramedics in here! They followed us here!" He said. Jones shook his head.

"There were none Peter. Not when I came back."

Peter's walkie-talkie started to beep, and then the cold, dark voice Peter had grown to hate, sounded.

"_Wrong Agent Jones. There were paramedics...they were __**my**__ paramedics."_ Marcus DeMyers started laughing, before he ended the transmission. Peter groaned.

"So, we have no help for Neal right now..." He said, glaring at the floor. "Call 9-1-1 Jones. And tell them they better hurry, to come very fast. I don't know how much longer Neal can survive."


End file.
